


Wiping Away

by Imiaslavie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s11e09 O Brother Where Art Thou, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imiaslavie/pseuds/Imiaslavie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel might be a shitty liar. But he can see when Dean is being a shitty liar too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wiping Away

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://angelswatchingover.tumblr.com/post/134896936458) headcanon on Tumblr.
> 
> Not beta-d, sorry!

When Dean returns to the bunker, he feels empty. He knows he must do a thousand important things, like call Sam and get an update on situation with Rowena and everything, but he just can’t. He wants nothing more than lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling like it contains all the answers in the world.

But bunker, unlike Dean, is not empty. Cas is here, checking some papers that lay on the table, and he turns at the sound of steps.

Their eyes meet. Dean has no power to greet him, he doesn’t trust his voice not to break. He just stands there, trying to smile even a little, trying to look better than he feels. 

Castiel might be a shitty liar. But he can see when Dean is being a shitty liar too.

“Something happened”, he says, coming up very close to him. It’s not a question, so Dean doesn’t even bother with finding an answer. He wouldn’t be able to come up with one anyway. Too much happened, and almost nothing made sense.

Castiel’s gaze slides over Dean’s face, his shoulders, chest, his arms, and then stops at the left hand. He takes it with his own, lifts it up so he can get a closer look. Dean watches helplessly as Castiel’s fingers caress his, as if trying to feel something unusual. And then he remembers how he wiped away Amara’s kiss with this hand. No way that Cas feels it. Just… no way.

When Cas lets go of his hand, Dean feels relief. But then Cas’ gaze slides up, and not to Dean’s eyes, but to his mouth, and Dean realizes that yes – Cas can indeed feel something. But there’s no way he would try and _study_ his—

Rough thumb slides across his lower lip, and Dean’s breath catches. Yet again the angel forgets all the rules, all the boundaries, and yet again Dean feels his head empty. Cas’ touches are very soft, and when Dean starts to think nothing can be worse, Castiel's thumb pressures against his lips very hard and strokes them with force a couple of times, as if wiping something away. Dean waits for him to pull away, but big warm hand stays on his face, cupping it, thumb still touching the corner of his lip. It’s unbearable, and Dean finally tries to say a least something.

“I think… I think she was trying to do something with me. To me. Amara. I don’t know”, Dean realizes he’s stating the obvious, and he doesn’t care. He just can’t help it. He feels like there’s a storm inside of his head, with millions of thoughts, and none of them are coherent.

Castiel is watching him carefully. He cocks his head a little to the side, and then something in his gaze shifts. Dean feels like he is no longer looking _at_ him, but _through_ him, _inside_ of him. No longer looks at his eyes, his face, his body, no. But deeper. Right into the soul. It unnerves him and makes him content at the same time, and it’s really, really weird feeling to have.

It lasts long enough for Dean’s ears to heat up a little, a nice addition to the warmth he feels from Cas’ hand and almost-touching of their bodies, because the amount of space between them is ridiculously small, but finally Castiel closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and when he is looking at Dean again, he looks him in the eyes.

“I know why Amara wasn’t able to do anything with your soul, neither take it nor do any other harm.” Castiel’s voice is even deeper than usual, almost as if he is struggling with what he is saying. Dean hopes that there’s nothing _really_ bad with him. “The thing is… your soul is already marked. By me.”

Dean lets out a small gasp, and Cas looks like he’s ready to beg for forgiveness.

“It’s fused with my grace. It would be wrong to say it’s no longer ‘pure’ because of it, it’s just… it’s bigger than it was. Because it bears my presence.”

Presence, he says. Dean waits for some voice of protest and outrage inside of his head, but there’s nothing. This ‘fusion’ thing _sounds_ like intrusion, but… it doesn’t _feel_ like it. It feels like link. Like bond. Not the one he or anyone else can wipe away as easily as Castiel wiped away Amara’s toxic touch from his fingers and lips.

“That sounds-”Dean struggles with finding an appropriate word.

“Unpleasant?”

“Intimate. Like… very much so.” Too much. “Very close.”

“It is”, Castiel confirms quietly. “Two beings can’t get much closer than that.”

But they can, Dean suddenly realizes. The fact is… they can. Their souls – or soul and grace, whatever – are already fused, laced with each other, melted. But their bodies don’t yet know each other.

And Dean desperately, desperately wants his body to bear the presence of Castiel too.

“They can”, Dean says out loud, and kisses him. And as if he was waiting, Castiel kisses back instantly, no shock, no doubt; the hand already resting on Dean’s cheek joined with the other one, getting a tight hold on Dean’s face, pulling him closer. There’s no air between, and when there’s no air for them to breath with anymore too and they pull away, Castiel licks Dean’s lips, pressing hard, and then takes Dean’s left hand in his and leaves a million of small kisses on each finger and on the palm.

Dean feels like he is burning, inside and out. Yes, this is the _closer_ he wants, so much closer, and if he starts to think about how they’re melted together on the inside too, he burns even stronger. And he forgets about everything bad, about everything that didn’t make sense today, because this – these hot kisses, and small kisses, and hands in the hair, and hands on his hips – this makes sense, and that’s all he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> My first contribution to the fandom, yay (hello to my new neighbours in the Destiel hell)! Not really used to writing spontaneous things without any plot, but wow, these too just such beautiful mix of hot emotions I couldn't resist.


End file.
